Killing and Conservation
by unicornforcewinds
Summary: AU. Ririchiyo moved away from home, hoping to put her past trauma behind her. All she wants is to be alone, because all she does is hurt people. Soushi earned his freedom, but the victory left him feeling hollow. He goes through life without purpose, possessing nothing of real value. Neither expects that a chance meeting with a stranger will change everything.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Dual POV. Heavy on exposition, lots of angst, with some mild suicidal ideation. Rating may change.**

* * *

"Like I would ever accept help from someone like _you_ ," she sniped, brusquely turning her head to the side and sticking up her chin.

His eyes opened wide, palms lifted in a gesture of peace, as he slowly backed away from her. She'd only barely moved in, and had already started offending the neighbors. Coming here was supposed to be a fresh start, and her bad habit was going to screw everything up. Sighing, she trudged the rest of the way up the stairs to the fourth floor, unceremoniously dumping the heavy box inside the open door of her new apartment.

This place was finally, fully hers, she realized, shutting the door and collapsing onto the luxury mattress she'd painstakingly selected only days before. Soft memory foam cushioned her body, supporting her head and spine, as she let herself sink into its perfect firmness. _If only everything could be so simple_ , she sulked, beginning to worry that this whole thing had been a mistake.

It would've been theoretically possible for her to simply remain in her apartment, never going outside. Maybe she could persuade her supervisor into letting her telecommute, and have all her meals delivered. The balcony would provide her with ample enough fresh air and sunlight to stay healthy, and she could get a treadmill for exercise. As long as her mouth was going to insult and ostracize every person she came into contact with, Ririchiyo was better off hiding from the world.

0

She had the nightmare again, waking up drenched in sweat, her long hair plastered to the sheets. _4:17 am,_ she sighed, looking at the clock, instantly knowing that she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. _I'll just have an extra cup of coffee,_ she groused, stripping the bed and getting into the shower.

The water pelted against her body like a thousand tiny daggers, burning away the filth she could never scrub off. She stood under the stream, letting it beat down upon her, until her skin was red and sore. She knew she was being careless, but it was the only thing that seemed to help. It helped her forget; to feel like she was herself again, whoever that was. Maybe she would never really know. Part of her didn't want to.

0

The walk was uneventful, her piercing, forward glare enough to deter anyone who might've otherwise approached her, and luckily, everyone else was too busy to care. It was better than having to take the subway, she noted, working her way through the endless throngs of people that made her feel simultaneously suffocated, and hopelessly alone. It was so odd, that in a city always bustling with life, there was a profound sense of loneliness beneath the surface.

She'd read about it in a book somewhere, no doubt idly flipping through its pages while waiting for something - she seemed to spend her whole life waiting, before she came here. A large number of people, existing in such confined spaces, would wall themselves off in order to not be overwhelmed. They were like her in that way, having a buffer of protection, but instead of keeping to herself, she lashed out. Even here, she didn't fit in.

0

She sunk down into the chair in her lab, head dropping onto the cold, smooth surface of the worktable. Their greetings had been so friendly, but she hadn't been able to bite her tongue, and they probably wouldn't say hello to her tomorrow, which left her feeling sad and relieved at the same time. It wasn't that she didn't _want_ to talk to them, but just that she _couldn't_. The difficulties in navigating social situations were simply beyond her limited capabilities.

Time passed quickly, once she'd begun, her mind focused and free of distraction. There were so many new items to catalogue, meticulously notating every last defect she could find, as she painstakingly looked them over. Even weathered with age and abuse, the volumes were beautiful to her, containing entire worlds of thought within their pages. Ririchiyo had always preferred books to people, maybe because instead of inflicting wounds, she could mend them.

She sat alone at lunch, having called the girls who came up to her 'cheap', and then silently admonished herself during the rest of the meal. Soon enough, word of her antics would spread, and no one would bother trying to talk to her. Then, at least, she could get through her days in peace, not having to worry about hurting others. That was, she told herself, what she really wanted.

0

Deep in thought, she didn't notice the car speeding towards her until its horn blared loudly in her ears. She stood dumbstruck, paralyzed by the headlights flooding her field of vision. Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her from danger just as she braced herself for impact, and some part of her almost felt disappointed. Her eyes locked onto his, peculiar blue and gold seeming to bore into her, as time came to a halt for one perfect moment, before reality crashed over her like a wave.

"Hmph, am I supposed to _thank_ you now?"

"No," he paused, a mirthless smiling curving up the edges of his mouth. "You needn't waste such words on me."

"Wh-wh-what?" she bleated, stunned both by his response and his demeanor.

"Please be more careful in the future, miss," he told her, bowing politely before turning to walk away.

She stared at his back until he disappeared from view, rooted to the place where he'd left her. Her vile tongue couldn't even spare him a single kind word, the man who'd just saved her life. What more proof did she need that she was unfit to be around other people? Still, that didn't stop the twinge of sorrow, thinking that she'd never see him again.

His face burned itself into her mind, those haunting eyes filled with inscrutable emotion, hiding a pain that felt very familiar to her. It was silly, she knew, any perceived connection only the result of circumstance and adrenaline. Feelings, however, were impervious to logic and reason; so attempting to explain them away would prove fruitless. That didn't mean she wouldn't still try, though, desperate to ignore the violent pounding in her chest.

* * *

He stared at the ceiling, eyes trained on the blades of the fan and their endless revolution. Beyond the walls of his empty apartment, he could hear the faint noises of the never silent city, a persistently sharp contrast to the quiet in his mind. He had no wish to be part of it, not really, offering him only a brief respite from the bitter emptiness threatening to eat him alive.

His phone lit up at regular intervals, alerting him of the messages he'd much rather ignore, in favor of gazing mindlessly overhead. He focused intently on his breathing, in, out, the steady rhythm of his heart assuring him that he was not dead. His ears perked up, shifting to the comforting whir sending a steady stream of cool air to prickle the bare skin of his chest. He keenly observed the sensation, recording each minute detail and storing it for later use.

Soushi's mind housed a database of such experiences, recalling each from memory as needed. It was second nature at this point, a habit born of necessity. His ability to read people and their reactions had been his saving grace, earning him an impressive reputation. To him it meant nothing, merely a means to an end, and a way to buy his freedom.

He tried to stop, once he'd paid his debt, but there was nothing else to occupy his time with. Outside of work he had no hobbies, no interests to dedicate himself to; so what was left for him but to go back? With open arms his return was welcomed, his old master's favorite tool, and he supposed that this pathetic existence was his life, now and forever.

0

 _ **Z  
**_ _Don't leave me hanging, Sou, are you taking the job or not?_

 _ **S  
**_ _Please give me a few days to think it over._

 _ **Z  
**_ _Sssoooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuu  
_ _That means no :( :( :(_

He saw the girl crossing into the street, his well-trained body reacting without thinking. It had been nothing, merely a reflex, until her violet eyes froze him in place. Everything else around him faded, the world becoming a distant memory, as his mind fixated solely on her. It was a thing he'd never experienced before, an innate pull overwhelming his senses, and then she spoke.

"Hmph, am I supposed to _thank_ you now?" she scoffed dismissively, a stark deviation from the reaction he'd been expecting.

"No," he admitted. "You needn't waste such words on me."

"Wh-wh-what?" she stammered, large eyes growing wider, and softer.

"Please be more careful in the future, miss."

He turned and fled immediately after bowing, needing to escape the oppressive weight suddenly bearing down on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. This was not a feeling he was familiar with, not yet catalogued in his memory bank, and it was extraordinarily unpleasant. Something must've been wrong with him, some kind of sickness - no other explanation made sense. All he knew was that that girl and her violet eyes were more dangerous than any opponent he'd ever faced.

He stood in the alley, leaning against a brick building, as he tried and failed to recall a number of sensations that would calm him down. Nothing could replace the ache he felt, the hollow space inside him growing teeth and claws, as physical pain tore at his insides. Those eyes taunted him, drawing him in; shining a light into the secret places inside himself he desperately wished to keep hidden. They stripped away his protective layers of camouflage, leaving nothing but a beaten, broken child, void of any self.

 _ **S  
**_ _I'll do it._

 _ **Z  
**_ _I knew you'd come around, Sou.  
_ _You won't regret this!_

But he already regretted it, all of it, as much as he was capable of without a conscience. The blood already staining his hands could never be washed away, and one more death meant nothing. Still, there was a discomfort in his abdomen, a pit forming and tangling inside him, telling him that it was all a mistake. Maybe this would be the one that got him killed, and maybe that was for the best. He'd face whatever waited head on, welcoming the consequences of his actions.

0

There was a knock at his door, a package delivery he wasn't expecting. With a hand reaching for his gun, he slowly turned the handle, eyes rapidly absorbing the information before him and determining that there was no threat.

"It's for the apartment across the hall," he observed, smiling politely to the courier.

"What? Oh, oh!" he blanched, "my apologies, sir."

"It's quite alright," he assured.

He remained quietly perched at the door, watching the exchange because he felt the need to be cautious. What he saw shocked him, left him unable to turn away, those features unforgettable. Her diminutive form, the stark contrast between her white skin and black hair, and the piercing violet eyes that he'd hoped to never see again. To think that the girl he'd saved only hours earlier, was the tenant who'd just moved in.

Alarm bells sounded in his head, mind working overdrive to assess the situation. Soushi did not believe in coincidence, and this development was far too convenient for him to accept it was merely an accident. This woman's presence was a puzzle, a challenge he needed to conquer. He would follow her, observing her, and discover what she was hiding. For perhaps the first time in his life, he felt almost afraid, and that fear excited him, left him anxiously anticipating her next move.

 _Ririchiyo Shirakiin,_ he smiled, eyes almost glowing at the picture on his monitor, _I think this will actually be interesting, and if nothing else, I'll have to thank you for that._

Soushi lied on his bed in silence, ankles crossed and arms bent behind his head. There were so many new sensations that he could barely keep up with them, as they worked their way through his body. Though he didn't know what to make of it, he was actually looking forward to tomorrow, and all that it would bring.

* * *

 **A/N: I honestly had no idea where I was going with this, but hopefully you liked it! I tried to stay faithful to the spirit of the characters, so hopefully nothing was too OOC, despite this being an AU.**

 **I don't know when I'll update, because I don't really have a ton of ideas, but I'm open to ideas (like whether or not half-youkai exist in this universe). Also, I am not sure about the title, so that might change if I can come up with something more suitable.**


	2. Chapter 2

She carried herself with grace, each movement of her delicate form refined. There was a proudness to her features, complementing the fierceness of her eyes, that held an air of importance. It was very likely she came from an affluent family, he noted, her demeanor seeming to exude superiority. How much of this was artifice or inherited, he could not say, and as he expected, there was precious little he could find about her online.

It was a convincing cover, nearly perfect in fact, and a less observant person might've fallen for her ruse. She rarely strayed from her routine, going to work and returning home, with little else in between. There were no photographs in her apartment, nothing of a personal nature, aside from a meticulously organized pair bookcases. The rare volumes might've been significant, if her work was not as a conservationist, but they presumably existed only as an added layer of camouflage.

Everything was too pristine, not a stray hair or particle of accumulated dust. She was obviously compulsively thorough in her efforts, conveniently wiping away any fingerprints as she worked. As with the apartment, her computer was empty, and decrypting the password had been far too simple. There were no personal emails or photos, nor any social media accounts. For a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties, it was all highly suspicious.

There were no cameras or bugs, however, which was somewhat unexpected. He would need to work quickly, the element of surprise being his greatest advantage, and he could not waste it by acting rashly. Besides, even if the evidence was overwhelming, he'd yet to find any tangible proof, and wasn't willing to risk moving forward without it. On the off chance that he'd somehow been mistaken, which he very much doubted, then Miss Ririchiyo Shirakiin was definitely still hiding something. While normal people had lives, friends, families, she seemed to have no one.

Her behavior appeared incredibly strange, if careful attention was paid. At odd hours, when the city was least busy, she rode the subway to a neighborhood halfway across town. Once there, she would purchase the same gourmet coffee beans from the same specialty store. Each day, after she returned from work, she checked her mailbox. In and of itself, this was not remarkable, but she would stare into its empty recesses expectantly, waiting for something that never seemed to arrive. In the time he watched her, she hadn't received even a single letter.

* * *

She filled her time with work, finding her duties sufficient to occupy her waking hours, at least for the most part. It was so quiet at home, since her myna bird died, a presence she didn't realize how much she would miss. Sometimes she would lie in bed, remembering the shadow of the cage as it swayed; as she listened to its occupant's mimicry. The silence in his absence was suffocating.

Had that bird, for all intents and purposes, not been the closest thing she had to a friend? Maybe, she thought, she should adopt a companion animal, but they too would eventually leave her; so she was better off staying alone. Her coffee and books remained her only steadfast companions, never fickle or changing, always providing exactly what she expected of them and asking nothing in return.

The book in front of her was less interesting than its binding, her eyes drawn to its intricate engraving as she scrutinized the workmanship. She returned to it often, being one of her first acquisitions, and it was a source of inspiration still. Her own approach was methodical, markings precise down to the micrometer, but this was different. She was unable to express it in words, the sight of it speaking to something inside her, evoking a sense of peace as she ran her hand over its cover, feeling the indentations beneath her fingers.

This had become something of a ritual, a way to ground herself when she was feeling overwrought. It was Saturday, which meant two full days without work to distract her, and she'd woken up prematurely by the nightmare again. The ceramic mug clattered against the table, her hand trembling as she picked it up, desperate for relief and comfort.

She sipped her coffee slowly, breathing deeply of its earthy aroma and savoring the hint of bitterness on her tongue. Each time she made it just the same, the beans measured by weight, the water poured in at just the right temperature. Ririchiyo had experimented for years to perfect her method, and she was proud to enjoy the fruits of her labor. It was one of few things in this world that meant something to her.

* * *

This intense curiosity was new for Soushi, his interest having evolved beyond what mere caution dictated. The reasoning behind it, or when exactly this change took place, he could not say, but the very idea of it was bewildering. People did not generally appeal to him, having never felt like a person himself, every fiber of his existence merely an affectation. Yet _she_ acted on him like gravity, and he felt himself pulled inexorably towards her, an urge that reason could not deny.

Today was particularly thrilling, because she was traveling somewhere new. He followed at a calculated distance, his appearance engineered to be inconspicuous. Though it was a routine part of his job, trailing _her_ was different, filling his stomach with an odd feeling he could only liken to a kind of fluttering. As with all the other sensations she inspired in him, it was something he'd never imagined experiencing for himself.

Her steps were slightly quickened, he noticed, almost leaping up from her seat on the train. Where she typically moved at a determined but unhurried pace, something today caused her to rush, tripping carelessly on the stairs. Though she caught herself before falling, he'd barely been able to hold himself back, the instinct to aid her a curious one, and another first for him.

He stayed back when she turned down an alley, unwilling to risk detection, and watched as a pair of men approached her. Were they her contacts, he wondered; had the day he'd been waiting for finally arrived? His body moved forward of its own volition, refusing to stay still when one of them pulled out a knife. Regardless of anything else, he could not allow her to be harmed.

* * *

With a rising palm strike, she struck his hand, the knife thrown from his grip as her foot collided with his groin. As he doubled over in pain, she grabbed his head, driving her knee up, into his face, and shoving him to the ground. His friend hesitated, obviously surprised; so she waited for him to make his move. With unsteady hands, he reached for his belt, pulling a gun from the waist of his pants.

"Are you going to shoot me?" she taunted, feeling her mouth curving into a smile. "Well, go ahead then, or are you too much of a _coward_?"

She stepped forward until the end of the barrel was inches from her face, his hands beginning to tremble as she stared him down for all she was worth. Though her heart beat loudly in her ears, somehow her breathing remained steady, and she felt oddly calm. Ririchiyo knew her behavior was uncharacteristically reckless, but she couldn't seem to help herself, almost daring him to pull the trigger.

"Crazy… bitch," the man snarled, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

The mocking chuckle fell from her lips unbidden, ducking her head as she thrust her hands upward, the gun going off when her foot connected with his stomach. She grabbed his hands and the barrel, twisting until he was forced to let go, his wrists about to snap, and she wrested the weapon from his grasp.

" _Crazy_ ," she repeated, "maybe I am, but at least I'm not incompetent like _you_."

He raised his hands in surrender as she trained the gun on him, shifting her attention back and forth between him and his partner, waiting for one of them to act. Of course they didn't, behaving exactly as the cowards she knew them to be.

"Get out of my sight," she commanded, sick of having to look at their disgusting faces.

She closed her eyes, shaking out her limbs, and breathed in and out deeply. What had she been thinking? Practically daring a man with a gun in her face to shoot her! The lack of sleep was frying her nerves, true, but she didn't have a death wish, did she? _No one would miss you_ , she thought bitterly, swallowing down the bile rising up in her throat and focusing again on her breathing. So close now, to beautiful distraction; she just needed to hold out a little longer...

* * *

He smiled to himself from where he hid, having watched the scene play out from the shadows. It had taken every ounce of Soushi's self-control to stop him from killing the men himself, essentially acting as her protector, and though he still wanted to, his decision was the correct one. The altercation, having obviously not been part of her plan, allowed him to glimpse a hidden side of her that he might not otherwise have seen.

Though few in number, when put together, the pieces he was slowly collecting painted a very interesting picture. Despite the intensity of her eyes, her almost painfully small stature and petite frame were unassuming, no doubt making her impressive combat skills even deadlier. Was she like him, someone's tool, living to efficiently carry out her duties, or was she something else, the similarities merely drawn by a deluded mind daring to entertain false hope?

He watched her round the corner, using a delicate, lace handkerchief to wipe away her fingerprints, before expertly disassembling the firearm and discarding its pieces in a sewer grate. She placed the soiled cloth inside a plastic bag, returning them both to her purse, and then, running her hands along the length of her dress to smooth out any wrinkles, she lifted her chin and continued on her way. Her composure was somehow more immaculate than before the foiled robbery, her eyes almost imperceptibly sharper, with the barest hint of tightness in her jaw.

Though, he supposed, it was possible for shock to manifest itself in such a way, he found the prospect dubious. As a long-time student of human behavior, Soushi's observational experiences led him to generally trust the law of parsimony: that the simplest explanation is most often the correct one. He surmised, therefore, that Miss Shirakiin had not only received extensive martial arts training, but that she had also put that training to previous use.

His head swum with possibilities, curiosity somehow thoroughly piqued and continuing to rise; preoccupation compelling him to follow her past the threshold to her destination. An antique bookseller's cramped shop left him with precious few places to hide, and no discernible way to quickly exit, should the need arise. It was a precarious situation he'd placed himself in, he observed, eyes scrutinizing his surroundings, but the risk felt unimportant when weighed against the unrelenting impulse to be near her.

* * *

Stepping through the doors was like passing through a portal, into a world where everything made sense. Running her gloved fingers along the spines of volumes that were created before she was born, and would exist long after she died, was somehow grounding. Releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding, her body relaxed, tension bleeding away as she perused the shelves, waiting for something to strike her fancy.

It was seldom the highly-prized works that caught her interest, a first edition of some classic, whose genius had long been pored over by scholars. No, it was the truly special pieces that called to her, passed over by most collectors as having little value; whose namesake was unremarkable, the author having been long forgotten by time. Their lonely pages spoke a language few could understand, eager to confide their secrets in someone who could see their worth, promising to reverse ages of neglect with tender loving care.

"I'll take these," she told the purveyor, placing her selections on the glass counter.

"Are you sure _these_ are the ones you want, Miss?" He raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking at her expectantly, as though she should change her mind.

"Yes, I am quite certain," she assured him, counting out the exact amount needed for her purchase.

"There is a no refund policy, Miss."

" _Yes_ , I know," she insisted, voice becoming unnecessarily stern. "Please wrap them carefully."

"Where should I have them delivered?" he inquired, counting the crisp bills and placing them into the antique register.

"I will take them directly," she announced, daring him to argue.

Her parcel was heavy, laboriously so, but she'd not have left without a single acquisition, each title of equal importance. She closed her eyes, smiling secretly to herself, steps feeling light despite her burden. _Today turned out well_ , she thought, far removed from her morning and the unfortunate encounter not two hours earlier. She made a plan to return again, the next time her spirits were in need of lifting, though she would look for an alternate route.


	3. Chapter 3

It was _cute_ , Soushi realized, the way she'd push a few errant strands of hair behind her left ear, eyes raking meticulously over each cover, through the thick, magnifying lenses perched at the tip of her eflin nose. Though she was most likely searching for a prespecified volume containing some kind of hidden message, it struck him as odd how engrossed she became, seeming completely unaware of her surroundings. Was her attention truly so distracted, or was it merely a guise, causing her to appear innocuous?

She purchased several volumes, each an obscure title he'd never heard of. Most, he suspected, were a cover for her real objective, but he had no way of knowing which it was. Though it was possible, he doubted the owner was involved, and did not wish to linger in order to question him, when she was so close. Soushi had to admit he'd grown careless, becoming much too involved; the risk of exposure a certainty now. Still, the compulsion was unignorable, the bundle in her arms almost comically large.

"Can I offer my assistance?" he inquired, heart thundering wildly in his chest.

He held his breath a moment, anticipating the curt reply.

"I am perfectly capable, thank y-... y-you!"

Her eyes went wide, mouth dropping open slightly, as she appeared to recognize him. He fought a chuckle, keeping his smile polite as he dropped into a formal bow.

"I'm pleased you remember me." That was true, though he already knew she would.

"Uh, I…" she flushed, turning her head away. "I suppose I should thank you, uhnnn, so, _thanks_."

He brought a hand to his mouth, muffling the small laugh he couldn't stop from escaping, finding her rudeness somehow delightful. At this point, he no longer cared if her manner was genuine or not, so long as he got to see more of it.

"You are most welcome. Would you do me the honor of being of service once again?"

"Are you some kind of perverted stalker?" she deadpanned, looking straight into his eyes.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" he countered, his smile widening fractionally.

"Tch, fair point," she huffed. "Fine, I'll permit you to help, this _once_. Just be careful, those books are precious."

"I will protect them with my life," he promised, amused at her scoff, and meaning every word. "My name is Soushi Miketsukami, by the way."

"Hmph. Ririchiyo Shirakiin," she muttered, walking off ahead.

The journey was companionably silent, unfamiliar territory for both of them, he suspected. It was odd that he should feel so at ease in her presence, knowing that she was most likely his enemy. If she tried to kill him, would he stop her; would he want to? A rush of wind from an incoming train carried her scent through the air, and he closed his eyes, inhaling the distinct aroma of coffee and old books, with an undercurrent of something else he couldn't recognize. Odd that it should feel so familiar to him, the prospect impossible, but it plagued his mind nonetheless.

* * *

Ririchiyo knew, in the abstract, that this was incredibly stupid of her, but she felt unerringly calm. Was it only the lack of sleep that inspired such irresponsible behavior, or was it something darker, a hidden desire lurking somewhere deep in her heart? She dared not examine the thoughts too closely, terrified of what answers she might find, and instead focused intently on the sounds of her own body - heart beating, breath escaping; bringing her back to the moment.

Whether she found his silence comforting or disconcerting, she didn't know exactly, some indeterminable mix of emotion gnawing absently at her mind. It was too much just then, and so she pushed it all down, refusing to acknowledge and unable to accept the truths staring her in the face. They would be back at her apartment soon, and if he did not kill her, then she could bury herself in work, the methodical conservation process absorbing all her focus.

"Th-thank you," she stammered, once they reached the door to her building. "I can take it from here."

* * *

"It's no trouble," he assured, fishing the key out of his pocket. "It's only a small detour."

She stared up at him, eyes filled with accusation, and he waited anxiously for what she'd say in response to this revelation.

"I see," she offered simply, clearing her throat, "I suppose it's alright then."

She turned from him, leading the way up the stairs, and he smiled to himself, indulging in his own amusement. Had she known already, or was it truly a surprise? Her reaction was subdued but startled, though he didn't know if this was because she'd actually been unaware, or if she merely wanted him to think so. It was astonishing that even this small exchange was thrilling, _fun,_ if he was forced to define it, and he was eager for more.

"How convenient," he mused, once the reached the fourth floor, "I'm just across the hall."

"Yes, well, I doubt we'll see each other often regardless."

"That would be a shame, I think I'd enjoy your company."

She looked away, her face flushing a most becoming shade of scarlet. Was this part of an elaborate act, or a natural response? Was it possible to fake such a reaction? The truth didn't matter, so long as he was able to make her blush like that again.

"You wouldn't," she warned, "people who get close to me end up hurt. If you're smart, you'll stay away."

Was this her way of warning him off, telling him that following this path would lead to danger? He didn't care, nothing could compel him to walk away now.

"What if I'm willing to take that risk?"

"Tch. You'll regret it."

"Why don't we find out?"

"Just stop," she ordered, voice sharp. "It's getting late and I have things to do."

"Oh course," he bowed, "I hope you have a pleasant evening."

"Yeah, you too, I'm sure," she returned dismissively, causing him to stifle a laugh.

"Miss Shirakiin," he called, as she was closing the door to her apartment.

"Yes?" she responded, impatient.

"I'm a knock away, should you change your mind."

"Not very likely."

"Even so, the offer is there."

* * *

She collapsed on her bed, heart furiously palpitating; wondering at the strange sensation he evoked in her. He shouldn't make her feel this way, thinking of his face, and especially those remarkable eyes. What kind of secrets were hiding in their depths, and why was she so interested in knowing? It was insufferably convenient that he was just steps from her front door, not to mention incredibly suspicious. Did his presence have something to do with her family? Is that why he saved her, and why he said her thanks would be wasted on him?

It was so peculiar that she wanted to trust him; to believe he was sincere, but it didn't really matter either way. Still, for some reason it was comforting to think this was all an elaborate trap, to keep her under the family's thumb, rather than a bizarre set of coincidences. That it was also probably the truth was secondary, what were the chances of being rescued from certain death by a beautiful stranger who also just happened to live across the hall? Though she might've been naive about the world from growing up so sheltered, she certainly wasn't stupid.

Let them play their games then, it made no difference to her if they wanted to waste resources on a power play. Even now she did as she was told, the perfect daughter of a powerful house, obedient to a fault. She'd long ago learned her lesson; realized the futility of fighting against her bonds, her simple act of youthful rebellion nothing more than a grand manipulation. What heart was left in her to be broken now, when her hands were already stained with blood? No, she wouldn't risk their ire again, not after everything it cost her.

The tears began to fall, no matter how hard she fought them; how peculiar that she was still able to cry. It had been a long time, and she supposed she was overdue a bit of melodrama. It would be so easy to walk the short distance from her door to his, wrapping gently on the wooden frame; waiting for him to answer. What would he say, and what would she? Could she come up with a reasonable excuse for why she wanted to see him? She sighed, pressing a pillow into her face to push away the frivolous thoughts. Her books awaited, and unlike him, they were real.

* * *

It was foolish and imprudent, but approaching her _felt_ so right to him. Having any personal inclination of the sort was laughable, and acting on it was even stranger still, but it had felt surprisingly pleasant. Why she inspired these feelings in him, he wanted to know, but even moreso, he wanted to find out what else there was to experience. The characters in books he'd read had never moved him before, their motivations unrelatable, but suddenly, an entirely new world seemed open to Soushi, one that he was no longer too alien to explore.

What would tomorrow bring, and next week? He wanted to be there; to see it; to see _her_. Even if he'd probably skipped a few stages in their game, he was eagerly looking forward to her next move, and finding out how it would all end. It didn't even matter if he survived past that, because nothing else seemed important, not now that he acted with purpose; had somewhere to direct his focus beyond his master's control. Whether it counted as living or not he didn't know, but it was the first time in his life that he really felt alive.

How pathetic a thing he was, and no doubt she would think so too. The thought depressed him, the idea of disappointing her, not that she expected anything from him. He couldn't be the sort of person she would find interesting, he knew, but as long as he got to interact with her; to live in the shadow of her light, it would be enough for him. It was baffling that he thought to imagine more - a dream for which he dared not even hope, but a fantasy that would sustain him, the idea that he she could see him for himself and would not turn away in disgust.

That she was not like other people was plain to see, but he could tell they were not the same. Her eyes were bright and sparkled with the fire of life - containing a passion that he had never before felt himself. Despite what he'd managed to glimpse, he truly knew precious little about her, and he didn't know how to obtain more information on his own. Would she move first, now that he'd shown some of his hand, or would she choose instead to wait, observing _him_?

He smiled at his own foolishness, pushing aside the hair that had fallen into his eyes, as he gently shook the idea from his head. It was a train of thought too dangerous to pursue; best that it be derailed now, before it had a chance to take root, if it had not already done so. Regardless of anything else, Soushi must always remember his position, his place in this world; he knew that well. There was nothing he could offer her, excepting perhaps his own life, and that would likely be of little value to her.

He laid on the bed, listening to the whirring of the fan blades, and let his eyes fall closed, her image clear in his mind. Violet eyes looked up at him intensely, her snappish tone warning him away as he expressed interest in seeing her more. Whether she wished that he not get hurt for his own sake, or because it would be an inconvenience to her, he didn't care. The existence of the feeling alone was enough, and he intended to hold on for dear life.


	4. Chapter 4

She jumped up from the bed and ripped off the sheets, body still trembling in her sweat-soaked nightclothes. Shaking her head violently, she gripped the clock between her hands, staring in disbelief at what it read. How had she managed to sleep straight through her alarm? Now, she'd just barely have time for a quick shower, if she didn't want to risk being late for work. Ririchiyo prided herself on being punctual, but was it worse to arrive a few minutes late, or to appear unkempt? She'd have to decide in a hurry.

It was a struggle to get undressed quickly, peeling away the damp fabric from her skin, but harder still was not indulging in the palpable relief, as hot streams of water caressed her shivering flesh; washing her nightmare away. The fresh, slightly astringent smell of her handcrafted soap, eucalyptus and bergamot, tingling her nose and making her feel clean again, as she swiftly scrubbed her weary limbs. This was an important ritual to start her day, and it had to be cut short for the sake of expediency. She hoped it would not impact her too much.

Thankfully, she'd pressed her clothes the night before, and it took no time to wind her unbrushed hair into a neat chignon, before almost running into the hall. What she saw froze her in place - a tall, beautiful woman leaving the apartment across from hers. Ririchiyo's stomach twisted into knots at the stranger's friendly smile, and she caught a glimpse of a familiar face through the partially open door. Their eyes met for just a moment, his gaze widening at the sight of her, and she immediately turned and fled, the risk of lateness now a convenient excuse to escape.

She grappled against the urge to take off in a run, the rush of footfalls behind her spurring her into a panic; the knot in her stomach tightening so hard she felt sick. Facing him now was the last thing she wanted, not that there was any reason for her to feel anxious. It wasn't her business, she told herself, steps nearly frantic as she tried to maintain a casual pace. She didn't care, _shouldn't_ care, and what he did or who he… it wasn't her concern. They were just neighbors anyway, barely even acquaintances really, and besides, she'd come here to be alone.

That didn't stop the inferiority she felt, her petite frame found wanting when juxtaposed with the shapely blonde's. If that was the type of woman he was attracted to, then it was even more likely his interest in her was solely because of her family. This was a thing she hated, misguided jealousy welling up inside her with the knowledge that she would never be good enough. _Boring,_ that was the truth; her harsh tongue nothing more than an easy disguise to hide behind. Whatever he had to say, she didn't want to hear it; any more lies would just be salt in the wound.

* * *

"I don't much care for being an errand girl, you know," she sighed, pointedly handing him the manilla envelope.

"Nobara," he smiled politely, bowing, "I do apologize for the inconvenience."

"Is it really so hard to send a text, Soushi? Zange's whining is driving me _crazy_."

"You are right; I've been remiss in my duties. Other matters have kept me occupied of late."

" _Other matters_ ," she repeated, raising her eyebrows, "since when do you have a life outside of work?"

She pushed her glasses further up her nose, and eyed him incredulously. In return, he only smiled, unwaveringly civil and showing off the familiar mask of professionalism she'd long grown accustomed to seeing.

"Well, I'll let you figure out what to tell him, because I'm not dropping that bombshell."

He quickly, but surreptitiously checked the wall clock for the time, and breathed a small sigh of relief. It would've been difficult to come up with a convincing excuse to delay Miss Yukinokouji, and most likely would only have raised her suspicions.

"I appreciate you coming all this way, and I do apologize for the trouble."

He bowed low and heard her scoff slightly.

"Just don't let it happen again."

"Of course," he assured, glad to see her leaving.

A bolt of panic struck him when he caught sight of a pair of violet eyes from the hallway. No doubt she'd misunderstood the situation, and he certainly couldn't tell her the truth. Up until now, he hadn't actually _lied_ to her, choosing instead merely to omit pieces of information that would expose too much. Explaining that his guest was nothing more than a coworker on an errand however, would mean verging into the potentially dangerous territory of discussing his job. That particular topic of conversation was one best avoided, the risk being too great.

"You know, I can't say I blame you," Nobara offered, a sudden and unwelcome intrusion of his thoughts.

"Blame me for what, Miss Yukinokouji?"

"I would gladly let a girl like that distract me from my responsibilities," she mused, her glasses beginning to fog.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," he insisted, smiling politely as he wondered how best to silence her.

"Don't worry Soushi, your secrets are safe from me. Unlike you, I was never his _pet_ , and I have no interest in his power plays."

It would've been nice to take those words at face value, but he couldn't risk trusting her. Regardless of anything else, she worked for his former master, a fact that necessitated keeping up his guard.

"Now, are you just going to stand there like a typical, worthless man, or are you going to go after her like she deserves?"

Soushi never acted without a plan, his brain constantly formulating strategies for all foreseeable contingencies, so that he was never unprepared. When he dashed from the apartment in hopes of catching up with Miss Shirakiin, he did so without caring that his particular affection for her would likely be revealed to those he most wanted to protect her from. It was the height of foolishness, but he was undeniably compelled, and found himself quite unable to hold back. All that mattered was reaching her, and clarifying his relationship with Nobara. Rectifying the misunderstanding between them meant too much to him, despite how little he mattered to her.

It was easy to find her, briskly traveling the familiar path to the museum where she worked. He felt her flinch when he reached for her, fingers curling into a fist as he pulled his hand away like one might from a fire, knowing better than to take such a liberty. Clutching a hand to his chest, he steeled himself against her censure, aware that she was likely to reproach his insolent conduct. So long as she did not dismiss him outright, then he would gladly bear any reproof.

"Miss Shirakiin, please wait."

" _What_ do you want?" she demanded, pausing her movements.

"Please let me explain, about what you saw -" The words died in his throat when she brought up a hand to silence him.

"Your explanation is unnecessary, Mr Miketsukami. How you choose to spend your time, and _who_ you spent it with, are of no concern to me. I am, _however_ , perilously close to being late, and _that_ is something I do care about. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Yes, of course," he assented, closing his eyes and offering a polite bow. "I apologize for keeping you."

He watched as she let out a _hmph_ and turned from him, the space between them feeling miles further apart with her every successive step. His fingernails dug into his palms; his jaw forming a hard line, as he let out a harsh breath through his nose. What had he expected, and why had he dared _to_ expect anything at all? This reckless behavior, rash and unthinking, was unlike him, and it started when she entered his life. While he would acknowledge the pleasure he derived from her presence, these strange and turbulent emotions kept him off balance. If he could not regain his composure, and his reason, he would find the game over before it had truly begun.

That a job had been quite literally thrust into his lap that very day, seemed almost to be providence. First, she distracted him from work, and now, he would use work as a distraction from her. The irony did not escape him, that she was the very reason he agreed to the assignment in the first place. With renewed determination, Soushi made his way back to the apartment, ready to immerse himself in the contract; putting all thoughts of _her_ out of his mind. As he looked over the contents of the envelope, the relief he felt washed away, a deep-seated unease taking him over, as the papers fell to the floor.

* * *

She all but ran the rest of the way, panting to catch her breath when finally she faced the grand double doors of the foyer.

"Cutting it awful close, aren't we, Miss Shirakiin?"

She recognized the clipped tones from an uncomfortable conversation a few days earlier. Hopefully the woman wouldn't prove to be too much of a problem in the future, her dislike written clearly across her face. Ririchiyo couldn't remember her name, but she supposed it didn't matter.

"Funny, it appears that I have a full three minutes to spare. _Plenty_ of time to check in."

That was a lie, but it didn't matter. She turned brusquely from the annoyed stare, and moved with purpose towards her office. The elevator was crowded, and her nostrils filled with the noisome scent of someone's offensively cloying perfume. Another benefit of arriving earlier, she thought, was that far fewer people were lingering about the building, and if she hadn't been so pressed for time, she might've taken the stairs to avoid them. It was too late now, but at least she had a private space of her own to escape to.

The coolness of the worktable soothed the heat of her flushed skin, but did nothing to calm the furious rapidity of her pulse. This was no good; she needed to regain her senses, and to stop thinking about him. That he was so easily able to disrupt her equilibrium was tremendously distressing, and at the same time, she refused to delve into the possible reasons why. Quiet solitude, that was all she wanted. Was that single, trifling thing truly such an unreasonable request that it should be denied?

It felt unfair, but then, what peace did she deserve? Perhaps her current predicament was some kind of divine retribution; a way to atone for her sins. It was not that she begrudged being punished, but rather that this particular method of reprimand bore too many painful memories. It was almost impossible to focus on work, when her mind was so otherwise occupied. How close she'd come to arriving late, a carelessness she could ill-afford; not when she still needed to prove herself. If she was to be truly independent, then she must stand alone; without the aid of her family's name or connections.

After work, she would confront him. The thought alone made her anxious to the point of feeling ill, and she didn't know how she'd get through it, but she had to, for the sake of her own sanity. The obstacles in her path seemed almost insuperable, but perhaps this was her own fault. Had she been more proactive; taken steps to prevent all this from happening sooner, then could the mess not have been avoided completely? This inattention was unlike her, and she would have to pay the price for such negligent behavior. Was it truly only because of her lack of sleep?

She pushed all the thoughts away and breathed in and out deeply, centering herself again, as she inhaled the evocative aroma of the decaying manuscript in front of her. Would this singularly pleasurable diversion be ruined for her as well, she wondered, the jagged edges of an old and bitter memory catching on some more susceptible part of her mind; dragging it into focus. _Blood everywhere, so much blood._

The average adult had over a gallon of the stuff flowing through their cardiovascular system, but this sterile and abstract understanding by no means prepared you for the reality of seeing it firsthand. The viscous substance seemed to pour ceaselessly from a wound too deep to contain, as she watched the flicker of life disappear from staring but unseeing eyes; her hands becoming indelibly stained with red... It had been quite some time since she saw the nightmare while still awake, but she supposed that it was never too far away. It would be difficult to bury this time, she could tell, but somehow she'd manage it. She always did.

* * *

 **A/N: S** **o, foreshadowing and introducing a new character, and at least one new character should also appear in the next chapter (which is kind of exciting to me haha). This didn't go exactly where I thought it would/meant for it to, but I'm rolling with it.**

 **Thanks so much for reading! This fic is extremely close to my heart and means a great deal to me.**


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